But if she couldn’t help Mak, Zana would be obliged to “smuggle” him in. Sig would know, of course; his spies are everywhere. She would have to tell him afterwards —right afterwards. And hopefully —doubtfully— reaching him before his spies do. That was not a message she would look forward to writing. Perhaps it would find him in one of his stupors.
She took a sip, swishing it around her mouth. Very light, sweet and dry, all the flavors and scents coming together masterfully. Not a hint of alcohol. A very good year. She closed her eyes. A very bad year. Mother, what would you do?
“It would be nice to have an answer before the Almighty returns…,” Lan said to his plate, trying very unsuccessfully to appear indifferent.
She put her glass down. “A very good wine. A very bad year.”
Mak snorted.
“That being said,” she continued before smacking her lips. “Alright, I’ll let you into the city. As soon as I can, I’ll send her word to—”
“One week,” Mak said. “I can’t wait forever.”
“One week,” she repeated, slapping the table with her palms. “But, I can’t find her in a week, Mak.”
Mak scowled, the light in his eyes faded. “I don’t have much time, Zana. If you can’t...then... I’m sorry. ...I guess I never had a sister then,” he ended in a low hush.
Zana felt her heart crush inside her as Ad and Lan shared glancing looks before returning to their plates.
“I...I see,” she said. “Well, I better find her quickly then. Lan, I need to send a message.”
“Tomorrow, a few hours before dawn,” he said. “I’ve dismissed everyone so we can talk alone.”
Zana returned to her plate, her appetite gone, but she forced the food into her mouth. A silence fell over the table as the clanking of silverware, glasses, and cups echoed inside an overly large and empty room. A room where good memories were formed in the those final years before her father died. Her parents would host dinners for family friends, guests, and dignitaries and hold dances in the ballroom across the hall. Sig, being the only one old enough to court at the time, would be expected to dance with visiting ladies. She and her other three brothers would jeer and make faces at him to the chagrin of her mother. But, now the room was an empty, cavernous place, more a musty museum of a forgotten time than her old home of fond memories. How much had changed…how easily things could be broken.
“This is very good,” Lan broke the silence.
“Thank you,” Mak replied. “Mother taught me the recipe. I’ve tried to be faithful to it, but I’m sure others in our family would know better how to be more faithful.” She caught him glaring at her for a moment.
“She didn’t teach me any of this,” Lan replied, digging butter out of his cup with a spoon before placing it in his mouth. Zana almost gaged.
Ad sighed, wiping his mouth with a tablecloth before pushing his plate away; the butter, as usual, was exactly half used. “And what is the main dish?”
Mak’s face lit up. “Beef, deer and duck!”
“Beef” Lan said.
“Deer,” Ad said.
“And I suppose, the duck is for me,” Zana whispered with her appetite returning. “How did mother ever keep us fed with so many different tastes?”
‘Easy,” Mak replied, rising from the table. “Sometimes she just told us it was what we thought it was.”
“Sneaky,” Lan said. “But, I hope you didn’t do the same here.”
“No, no. These are the real animals; trust me. Almighty’s truth!”
Ad pointed to Lan. “Was it from your stock?”
“No, I don’t think so. Mak, you didn’t slaughter any of my stock, did you?”
Mak laughed. “No, no. I would have asked.”
“But, how did you get them here,” Ad asked. “Don’t tell me you slaughtered them back in your lands and brought them all the way here. They would have been rancid by now.”
“Oh, my dear Ad. Really? Would I serve you rancid food?”
Zana shrugged, refilling her wine glass. “One of Mother’s culinary secrets again, I suppose.”
Mak smiled sheepishly. “You should listen to her. If everyone’s ready, I’ll go get them.”
Lan fretted, “I’m still worried I’m missing a cow, a deer and duck,” he said, removing what was left of his cup of butter off the plate before handing it to Mak. “There’s not much room here in the city for much animal stock and tomorrow night—”
“Don’t you dare put any of that butter on your beef,” Mak warned.
“I’ll do what I please with what goes into my mouth.”
Mak shook his head, grabbing Ad’s plate. “You’ve got a barbarian’s palette. ...And you Z, you finished?”
“No, I think I’ll keep this,” she said. “But, I would like to have whatever mystery you have for me.”
Mak smiled. “You’ll love it,” he said, placing the plates on a tray before disappearing back into the kitchen. “Another bottle,” he asked with his voice trailing.
“Yes,” Lan shouted.
Zana smiled to herself.
“What is it,” Ad asked.
“How much we’ve all grown, yet how little we changed.”
Lan gave a genuine smile, crow’s feet creasing from the corners of his eyes; the kind of smile she remembered from long ago. “Well, you’d never guess what happened here last week,” he said. “A thief broke into this place to get my ‘jewel of the mountain’.”
“Here, to the Red Rock,” Ad said, his eyes wide open. “The man must be insane. What did you do to him?”
Lan shrugged. “Father’s Tower,” he said. “I thought at first he was one of Sig’s but the man was so incompetent half the palace knew he was here.” He laughed. “I sentenced him to a month’s isolation, but he doesn’t know that. He thinks he’s going to rot in there forever. But...I wouldn’t do that.” He rolled his eyes at Zana who returned an approving nod. “No, he’s just a stupid boy, but umm… he’s a known thief actually, working for the Night Lady—”
“Rochelle,” Zana blurted out.
“Yea. You know her?”
Damn. The wine was loosening her tongue. “Of her,” she quickly corrected. “We were warned about her when we stopped at Faf’r. She’s a wanted criminal in your princedom, isn’t she? With a bounty too.”
Lan sipped his wine. “Yea, yea, a wanted criminal,” he said, batted his hand. “Her and her people’s ‘Night’s Lady’ persona have bounties.” Then he raised an eyebrow toward her. “You know, the ‘Night’s Lady’ is really good at keeping her real name secret; you’ve got some pretty good spies there, Za’nina.”
Zana scrunched up her face at him, trying to keep her face from reddening.
“Oh right, right. You’re way above spying on your siblings, aren’t you,” Lan teased. “I forgot about that.”
“I don’t spy on anyone,” she said, pointing her finger at both of them. She didn’t even know about Mak’s illness, for the Goddess’s sake. And Sabina not writing to her? She’d have to look into that. “But, if other people come to me with information I happen to be interested it, I wouldn’t mind parting with a little money for it.” She smiled deviously. “A princess has to know when she’s not being watched.”
“Yea, I can see that. Sig’s probably watching you from everywhere, huh?”
She groaned, before taking another sip. “‘Everywhere wouldn’t do his spies justice. He isn’t so much scared I might side with you three. I think he hopes that I do. It’ll make his ambition that much easier to—”
“Oh, we know, Z,” Lan stopped her.
Ad placed his elbows on the table and rested his face on his folded hand, looking at her with a confused expression. The wine must be getting to him too. “I know why he’s got so many of his people in your city, Z,” he said, chuckling to himself. “Be honest. How many suitors came to propose to you since last we all came together?”
This time, she couldn’t help blushing, shaking her head. “Eighte
en,” she said with a slight giggle. “All from the far east this time. I swear, I spend more time dancing at balls and breaking egos than anything else. The gifts are nice, though.” She lifted her glove hand. Oh, right, I took that stuffy Count’s ring off.
“He wants the Holy City,” Lan replied, straightening himself in his chair. “He’ll never get it if you marry outside his Empire. Not without yet another war and looking like a tyrant. And we sure as hell will never assent to him becoming Ladress’s.”
She looked down at her wine glass, swirling it slowly. “I know,” she said in a small voice. “Some of them were probably sent by him.” How could she tell if someone was a genuine person, let alone, interested in her? Most of those ‘suitors’ were boring opportunists interested more in relations with the Golden Lady and her priests’ magic training than her. And then there were those who just wanted to get into Sig’s good graces. Normally, it would have been her parents job to find good suitors for them, but they were gone now…too early. “But, I don’t see any of you courting,” she said, lifting her voice to shift the focus off her. “I found Sabina for Mak. I still know a lot of good catches that—”
“Urg,” Ad sounded. “That Linda woman? I’ve tried with her,” he said, leaning back into his seat. “But that’s over,” he added with relief.
“Oh, no; I’m sorry to hear,” she feigned surprise; she already knew from her luncheons with the other ladies. “She seemed nice at the last reception. Where was she from again?”
“Somewhere south, some duchess’s second daughter of some city state.”
“Sounds like you really got to know her, Ad.”
“Oh, I did, Z. I did.”
“Then, you went to her estate, right?” But, she knew he never did. “Her father, the Steward-King, is very excited to start hosting his monthly tourneys again. He’s invited suitors from all over the world. It’s how this whole courting thing works.”
He gave her a flat stare. “You think that purge is supposed to impress me? I don’t care if the Steward-King lopped off every Ragnarok cultists’ head himself, I don’t have time to travel all the way down there just to be one of eight other men in a room trying to out dance the other with her? Ha! Not me. Besides, when she was up here, I got to know her well enough. She was obsessed with architecture and city planning. Talked nothing else.”
“But I thought you liked that subject,” she replied.
“I like building things so they work better than before. Not because they’re in ‘fashion.’ Linda would have filled my streets with arts and marble carvings of naked angel busts on all the building roofs.”
Lan laughed. “Is that the fashion now? What would mother and father think?”
Zana crossed her arms tightly. How was she supposed to know the difference? But, she wouldn’t give up. She had her own plan to end this family feud —marriage. Maybe if Lan and Ad married and fathered some children, their heads would cool. But Sig’s aggression on everyone made the Ladress name synonymous with danger. Sabina was an exception. She first found the danger exciting, but now, as Mak said, she’d rather go back home.
“And you.” She turned to Lan.
“When I feel satisfied justice has been done,” he said.
“Right, your ‘war’ with Sig,” she answered, sipping wine. We’re not the only royal family with assassinated members. Why can’t we move on? But she kept that thought to herself, partly because she didn’t believe it either. Sig was innocent, and she had to prove it. Hopefully, her little investment with the Night Lady paid off.
“You know, Z,” Landrie drew out slowly as he played with his fork. “If you’re getting overwhelmed with suitors, maybe the Night Lady can help find out why.” His eyes shot open, exposing his palms. “Oh, well, not that anyone wouldn’t want to marry my beautiful sister.”
“That’s better,” Zana replied, looking at him sideways.
“…But you said it yourself some of them were sent by Sig. The Night Lady can find out which. She has some quality people. Not that one in the Tower.”
“Oh,” Zana tried to sound interested. She didn’t want to give any hint that she already hired Rochelle’s services for a variety of task, not least of which was to keep Sig’s people out of the Temple. She held back a curse. Her parents would be ashamed of them having to hire thugs because of all the shared loyalties between the Ladress siblings —though Sig’s influence had waned. Families and peoples used to serve one house: Ladress. Now what were her and her brothers expecting them to do? Graduate their loyalties from highest to lowest? Betray one brother prince on one matter, another for a different matter? Sometimes, she wondered if the shattered kingdom had become one large version of her lady’s gossip parties.
“It’s just a thought, Z,” Lan added apologetically. “She owns an eatery, ‘the Bear and Babe’ in that city you passed, Faf’r. When you head back home, stop there. I’ll send her word.”
“She’s a criminal,” Ad reminded him. “You have a bounty on her.”
“Ha, she wanted it even higher! But, I don’t want to risk losing her to some underworld pride contest.”
“I’m...very confused,” Ad asked. “You know her, know where she is, and allow her to steal from you and your subjects?”
Lan cackled. “She’s harmless, but her network and information is quite valuable. We have an understanding. Oh, now don’t misunderstand me. If we catch her crew; we jail ‘em.” He nodded up toward the ceiling. “Like that thief I put in Father’s Tower.”
“She tried stealing from you,” Ad gasped. “I would make an example out of them. Hands off, maybe even his head if he’s done other crimes.”
“But that’s the beauty of it,” Lan said, finishing off his glass. “You two know the real meaning of the ‘jewel of the mountain,’ and she knows there’s no such real thing. If she sent someone here to actually find it, then she obviously had other intentions for this thief. Maybe training, or probably humbling. Either way, I’m happy to oblige.”
“And for this service, what price will the Prince of the Mountains Lands ask in return? More information?”
Lan poured the rest of the bottle into his glass. “Nooo…not this time. This time, I’ve got a job for him to do.”
Ad gave him his usual flat stare. “And for what job would you want an incompetent thief do?”
“The kind that succeeds whether he does or not.”
Zana eyed the last few drops of wine in her glass. “Maybe if you stopped spreading those rumors of your ‘jewel of the mountain’ they would stop trying to take it.”
Lan laughed, smacking his hand on the table. “But that’s half the fun, Z! The mystery of the mountains has always captivated our people ever since Father claimed them. So many writers and poets have written such beautiful prose about their mysteries. What secrets are out there? When new minerals? Artifacts of the ancient world? The jewel of the mountain encapsulates that mystery and fuels our ambition. A drive, Za’nina. A goal. I don’t blame that thief one bit. In a way, Father did the same thing when he came here. There is a ‘jewel’ for everyone out here. ...And, I’ve found mine.”
And use it to make war against our brother, she thought of saying but decided against it. Instead, she decided to give into the wine’s warm euphoria filling her, to lower her guard a moment. To step off that line she carefully navigated, to put aside the burden of her mother’s wishes. Sig, Lan, Ad, and Mak, they weren’t bad brothers. They used to go hunting together, compete in tourneys, and one-up each other in the most childish and immature ways. How much they haven’t grown. No, they weren’t bad people. They were…just idiots. She giggled. Her brothers turned to her, expecting her to let them in on her little joke.
“What kind of wine is this,” she said instead.
“A very deceptive wine,” Lan added, smiling. He grabbed the empty bottle, holding it reverently. “The year mother died. Very deceptive, indeed.” He placed the bottle back onto the table with the three of them staring at it as though the
bottle could conjure up old forgotten memories of their happy youth. Mother laughing. Picnics at Father’s resting place. Festivals in the Holy City.
“I wonder,” Ad added at length. “If Mak has many more of them. I’d like to have a few.”
“I’d like to bring some home with me too,” Zana found herself saying.
Lan hummed an odd tune, but familiar if not for—
“Your way off key,” Ad said, chuckling. “Mother would have backhanded you. Now, it’s more like this.” Ad began whistling —badly— along with Lan’s dreadful humming. They both opened their hands toward her.
“You’ve got to be joking,” she said, blushing red.
Again, they opened their hands toward her.
“I’ve forgotten the words,” she lied. “I haven’t sung that since I was five.”
And again they—
Thud. Crash. Thump. Thump. Thump. Sounds erupted from the kitchen.
“Mak,” Lan shouted, rushing over. Ad followed along with Zana.
She gasped. There, in the doorway, laid Mak with his eyes rolled back, his legs and arms flaying wildly, his head banging against the door frame. “Ad! His head! Brace it!” Lan fell on top of him, trying to stabilize his movements, but the convulsions were too strong to keep him still. Ad ripped open his jacket, curled it up as best he could and placed in the door frame cushioning Mak’s head.
Zana watched, horrified, anxious, with her gloved hand twitching over her mouth. After a few moments, Mak’s convulsions slowed, then stopped. Mak’s eyelids closed and he fell still, breathing softly. Sleeping.
Lan, out of breath, rose from his brother. He looked at her, panting with a deep frown on his face. “Mother never intended this,” he said, pointing to Mak on the floor. “Can’t you just let him go? Damn Sig! He’s dying, Z. Let him see Mother.”
“I...I—”
Mak mumbled, a deep gurgling sound. “Water, he needs water,” she said when Mak’s eyes opened, his pupils clouded white.
“Where is the sun,” he screamed, his arms stretched outward. “It’s gone! The land is black. From the sky. Storm and Wind. From below. Fire and Ash. Wrath and Judgment. Dust! Dust! Dust! The Almighty...the Almighty is returning!” And then he fell to a sleep.
Call of the Chosen- Broken Kingdoms Page 8